


Apocalypse Now

by Callisto



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callisto/pseuds/Callisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Both of them were at full stretch, running across the uneven ground toward the parking lot of the motel. But Sam was that crucial step or two behind, and all Dean could think was not fast enough, oh shit not nearly fast en-</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Apocalypse Now

**Author's Note:**

> Written to the prompts: glow - frantic - shove - running

Both of them were at full stretch, running across the uneven ground toward the parking lot of the motel. But Sam was that crucial step or two behind, and all Dean could think was not fast enough, oh shit not nearly fast en-

He reached back with his good arm, found a sleeve and yanked, using all the momentum he had to shove his brother ahead. Sam flailed, almost stumbled, and Dean’s heart took an extra skip. But then he just moved his hand down the sleeve and locked his fingers around Sam’s.

 _Not ever on my watch, you fuckers._

“Dean... I can’t..”

The glow was sharpening up all around them, humming and hissing, lightening the night sky in a way Dean thought should never, ever be possible. Not in any book, any movie, any nightmare.

Almost there...

The hiss became a frantic caress, stroking the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck to attention, willing him to turn and look, just look, man. Nothing to it. We got ya, we got ya both...

“You can, Sammy. Don’t look back, man. Don’t you dare!”

A key turned at lightning speed, a snarl, a flash, and suddenly two figures slammed against a door, breathing in huge, long gulps of air as they slid down to sit on the floor of their motel room.

Outside, something howled its disappointment.

The air hurt, but Dean still took in lungfuls of it, desperate to slow his pulse and steady the buzzing in his head. Next to him he could hear Sam doing the same, and neither spoke for a long minute while their breathing slowed and the whine outside faded, just a little. Sam coughed and shifted closer.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Was that... Dude, did we just witness...?”

“I have no idea what we just witnessed. Though I’m guessing tomorrow’s Superbowl ain’t looking too hopeful.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“What?”

“I said... Dean, uh...you’re holding my hand.”

“I know.”

“You can let go. I mean, if you want to.”

“In a minute, maybe.”

Outside the apocalypse picked up speed and the door began to shake.

******


End file.
